


Looks on Tempests

by amphitrite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Kylo and Hux are rich assholes, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Existential Crisis, Finance Bros AU, M/M, Post-Break Up, The First Order is a bank, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-01-23 02:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amphitrite/pseuds/amphitrite
Summary: Ben Solo returns to his parents’ home when he and his longtime partner break up because Hux was offered a promotion on the other side of the country. But they have never been able to resist each other for long.





	1. Chapter 1

> _I used to fall asleep to you talking to me_  
>  _I don't listen to anything now_  
>  _Nothing to do with us_  
>  _I'm just so tired of thinking about everything_  
>  _I'm not afraid of being alone_  
>  _I just don't know what to do with my time_  
>  _Between you and me_  
>  _I thought it would all last a little while longer_  
>  _But I'm learning to lie here in the quiet light_  
>  _While I watch the sky go from black to gray_  
>  _Learning how not to die inside a little_  
>  _Every time I think about you and wonder if you are awake_  
> 
> 
> —"Quiet Light," The National

  


Hux dumped him on a Wednesday.

Kylo would never forget it. Hux had returned from an overnight business trip to New York glowing with atypical excitement. Kylo had found it rather endearing until Hux began telling him about a surprising job offer he had received while there—a once-in-a-lifetime chance, he’d called it. It was a generous promotion that would get Hux miles closer to his lifelong goal of being the top man at First Order Bank, where they both worked. The problem was it would require him to move across the country.

“What about me?” Kylo said, ears ringing as he attempted to process the ludicrous words coming out of Hux’s mouth.

“You’ll come, too, obviously. I’ve already drafted a letter to HR regarding your transfer. Of course, there may be a waiting period while they find a proper position for you—especially given your unorthodox resume—but my earnings will be more than sufficient enough for the both of us, especially with the salary increase . . .”

“Hux,” Kylo said forcefully. Hux snapped his mouth shut and given him a bewildered look. “Hux, I can’t move to New York.”

“What?” Hux said, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility. “What are you talking about?”

“There’s the matter of my job, for one.”

“As I just told you, I’m handling it.”

“My family . . .”

“You hate your family,” Hux pointed out.

“And my friends . . .”

“I’m your only friend,” Hux said. He wasn’t completely wrong, but it still stung.

Scowling, Kylo said, “Look, I’m not transferring to New York. My whole life is here. I’ve built my entire career around working for Snoke. I still have so much to learn from him. I can’t just throw it all away.”

“I don’t understand,” Hux said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What are you saying?”

“Don’t take the job,” Kylo said, but even as he spoke the words he knew it was an impossible plea. Ambition was Hux’s primary driving force, and nothing meant as much to him as being singled out and commended by his superiors. Not even a relationship of five years. It shouldn’t have felt like such a shock; he shouldn’t have been feeling as if the floor had dropped beneath him.

“This is everything I have ever worked for,” Hux said, predictably. “Managing director at thirty is better than I’d ever hoped for. I can’t turn it down, Kylo. I’m not going to.”

“And I’m not going to leave Snoke,” Kylo said petulantly. Two could play at the stubborn game.

A tense silence soured the air between them. The ticking of the old clock above the mantel suddenly seemed deafening, and Kylo resisted the urge to march over and rip it off the wall.

“Well,” Kylo tried, “it’s only, what, a five-hour flight?”

“No,” Hux said immediately. “I’m not doing long distance. It’s absurd. This isn’t some temporary assignment—I’ll be setting my roots down there. Clients, accounts, everything. If you’re not leaving LA, then I’m not going to . . . We’re not going to drag this out and torture ourselves in the process.”

“So . . .”

Neither of them wanted to say it.

“Will you sleep on it, at least?” Hux said at last, staring forlornly at his knees. He sounded uncharacteristically soft, and Kylo couldn’t resist the automatic instinct to wrap an arm around him. Hux ducked his head into Kylo’s shoulder and let out a quiet but heavy sigh. “Don’t make me give this up,” he whispered.

“Okay,” Kylo agreed, but they both knew that he wouldn’t change his mind.

The next few weeks were taxing and fraught with emotions. One morning, Hux awoke to Kylo crying into his hair, and more than once Kylo caught Hux staring with watery eyes at the stupid candid photo of them from last Christmas that had somehow ended up on their refrigerator. Their belongings began to fill the ugly cardboard boxes that the moving company had provided. Kylo had to rescue more than one sentimental trinket from the grubby hands of the people Hux had hired to pack things up.

But hardest of all was saying goodbye.

“So this is it,” Hux said. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands and settled for crossing his arms against his chest, as if he were both shielding himself from the world and holding himself together. Kylo wanted to shrink him and tuck him into his shirt pocket, to keep him close always.

“I’ll never love anyone else like this,” he said fiercely. As the words tumbled out of his mouth, he realized that they sounded more like a threat than a promise.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, you idiot,” Hux said, tone harsh but eyes red.

“I mean it,” Kylo said. He felt that it was important for Hux to know this, and a not insignificant part of him wanted Hux to understand fully what he was giving up. “You’re it, for me. I’ll always be yours.”

Hux closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Kylo’s. “Shut up,” he grumbled. “You are so fucking infuriating.”

Unable to resist, Kylo kissed him. He tried to infuse it with the hurricane of emotions that was tearing through him, so overtaken with sorrow and creeping regret that his knees nearly buckled. Hux let out a nearly inaudible whimper and clutched Kylo’s arms so hard it almost hurt, his cheeks hot and wet.

“Come with me,” Hux pleaded when they broke away at last, his eyes bright and desperate. “I’ll have the movers transfer your belongings to the truck. We’ll get you a ticket on the way to the airport.”

But Kylo held his gaze and shook his head. It was unlike Hux to beg, and it both disturbed him and made his heart ache.

“Sir?” A voice interrupted. It was one of Hux’s people. “Your car is waiting.”

“Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something?” Kylo snapped, wanting to punch the man in the face.

“Kylo,” Hux chided. “Thank you,” he said to the man. “I’ll be right there.”

Then he turned to Kylo and held out a hand. Kylo stared at it hatefully and then ignored it in favor of sweeping Hux into an ungraceful embrace.

“You bastard,” Kylo choked out. There was no stopping the tears leaking from his eyes. Hux fit perfectly in his arms, and he already missed it desperately. “How dare you leave me like this.”

Hux was stiff in his arms. Kylo could tell that he was already withdrawing emotionally, trying to protect himself by rebuilding those cold walls that Kylo had ravaged. Into Kylo’s ear, he said simply, “Take care of yourself.”

After watching the limousine carrying Hux turn the corner, Kylo stomped to his own car.

Some interminable time later, he started the car and drove away from the house they had shared for the last time. Every minute, every mile of the drive felt like a punishment.

*

The doorbell was broken. That much was clear after minutes of ringing it and nobody answering the door despite the lights that were on inside the large house. Kylo was about to start pounding on the door when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Ben?” Kylo whipped around at the sound of his father’s voice and groaned inwardly. He had been hoping to speak to his mother first. Kylo was in no mood to deal with his father and his flippant jokes. “I thought that was your car I saw. What are you doing here?”

“None of your business,” Kylo snapped out of pure instinct.

Han rolled his eyes but gave Kylo’s luggage a suspicious look. “You moving back in or something?”

Kylo’s sullen silence seemed to tell him all he needed to know, which was incredibly annoying.

“Trouble in paradise, eh?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kylo bit out.

Han held his hands up in mocking surrender. “All right, all right. Where’s your key?”

“I lost it,” Kylo lied. He had actually thrown it into a copse of trees in a fit of rage after a phone call argument with Leia two months back. “Can you just let me in already? I’m tired, and I want to sleep.”

“Same ol’ Ben,” Han grumbled, but he held the door open. “Honey, I’m home!” he announced in a sing-song voice. “And look what I found on our porch.”

They found Leia in her study, glasses perched on the tip of her nose and illuminated solely by her desk lamp as she frowned at a massive, exhausting-looking stack of documents.

“Ben!” Leia exclaimed. She looked excited despite the worried look in her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

_I don’t want to talk about it_ , was on the tip of his tongue, but he knew that wouldn’t fly with his mother. “Hux and I broke up,” he admitted.

“What?” Leia and Han said in unison. Leia stood up and removed her glasses.

“What happened?” she asked, placing a careful hand on Kylo’s arm. There was a part of him that hated that she knew how uncomfortable he felt receiving physical affection from her.

“And do I need to get Chewie's shotgun?” Han added, arms crossed.

Leia shot him a piercing glare. “This is serious, Han.”

Despite the turmoil churning within him, Kylo couldn’t help but smirk. His mother annoyed him on their best days, but he could always count on her to tell his father off. As a child, Kylo had delighted in egging Leia on when Han was annoying him.

Running a hand through his hair, Han sighed and said, “All right, kid, let’s hear it. What are you drinking?”

“I don’t . . .” Kylo began, and then sighed. “I could go for some whiskey.”

Leia led him to the living room as Han went to the kitchen. There was a kind look in Han’s eyes as he handed Kylo an Old Fashioned. Kylo looked down, away from the piercing warmth. But the tumbler in his hand reminded him of Hux, as did the scorch of the amber liquid down his throat.

“Hux is moving to New York,” Kylo said. "He's on a flight right now."

“You can't be serious,” Han said.

“Yeah. They're making him managing director at headquarters.”

“You didn't go with him?”

The surprise in Leia's voice startled Kylo.

"How could I?" he said. "Everything I've worked for is here. My future is here. I can't leave my job."

Han snorted. "You can't leave Snoke, you mean."

Kylo chose to ignore the unwarranted sourness in Han's tone. "Anyway," he said, not wanting to delve back into that old argument, "It wasn't an option. And Hux . . . Well, this is everything he's ever worked for. We didn't have any other choice."

"I'm sorry, Ben," Leia said. "How did Hux take it?"

“He really wanted me to go with him,” Kylo said. “But he didn’t want to do long distance.” He swallowed hard. Hux was probably right that it was impractical and would’ve just prolonged the agony, but it still stung that he hadn’t even wanted to try. In the weeks that followed his announcement, Kylo had tried tirelessly to convince him to change his mind. But Hux could never be swayed after he’d made a difficult decision.

Kylo cleared his throat, hating the sympathy in his parents’ eyes. He had grown up facing that look and never knew what to do with the ball of resentment that inevitably coagulated in his chest at the sight of it. “So,” he said stiffly. “Is it okay if I stay here while I figure out the housing situation?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Leia said. “You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

Han added, “We’d be happy to have you around, kid.”

“Thank you,” Kylo said. He put his empty cup on the table and stood up. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to sleep.”

“Good night, sweetheart,” Leia said.

“’Night, buddy,” Han said.

Kylo lay awake in his childhood bed late into the night. He already hated being back here, but the house had been Hux’s, and he didn’t really have anywhere else to go. At least his parents had seemed genuinely sad for him. They hadn’t liked Hux very much when he and Kylo had begun dating—Kylo suspected they had always been hoping for him to meet someone gentle and kind who would “fix” him—but they had accepted the reality of his chosen life partner three years into the relationship. A couple of tense holiday gatherings had ensured that.

As the night dragged on and sleep refused to claim him, Kylo wondered what Hux was doing at that moment. He would’ve landed in New York by then. Was he unpacking? Had he collapsed of exhaustion or tried to get work done before he went to bed? Hux hated sleeping on flights and would be very tired from hours of travel. Was he cold? Did he have enough blankets? Did he miss Kylo?

When Kylo finally fell asleep, he dreamt of Hux and the way his frown lines softened whenever he caught sight of Kylo across a room.

*

The next morning, Kylo desperately wanted to call in sick, but the delicate way his parents treated him at breakfast—Han made his favorite pancakes and served him coffee just the way he liked it without a single sarcastic remark—convinced him that he needed to get out of the house.

Work was unremarkable, except for the utter lack of contact with Hux. Before, they had worked on different floors but spent most of the day conversing on the company chat system or via text messages. They had customarily gotten lunch together, except when Hux had lunchtime meetings (which was more often than Kylo liked). Kylo had never realized how thoroughly he had taken it all for granted.

This came with the additional consequence of making him realize, with profound dismay, how much of his life had revolved around Hux. And how happy it had made him. This upsetting epiphany transformed him into a nightmare in the office; by eleven o’ clock he had already thrown his cup of pens across the room and upended a table. The framed photograph on his desk, a handsome photo of him and Hux at a stupid company picnic years ago, seemed to taunt him.

Around lunchtime, he received a text from his friend Rey:

_Hey, Ben! Heard you were back in town. I'm slammed this week, but want to grab dinner and catch up this weekend?_

Rey was Kylo’s only friend besides Hux, and even that title might be a stretch. Despite having grown up together, they were as different as night and day, and had a history of bumping heads. Kylo could never stay mad at her, though, and, lucky for him, sunny Rey seemed incapable of holding a grudge against anyone at all.

The thought of telling her the news filled him with dread. Rey had been the first person he had come out to, as well as the first person he had told about Hux. She had supported him from the beginning, even when he kept creeping on her friends; even when he kept (unintentionally) ruining the dates she set up for him; even when Hux had inadvertently insulted her the first time they met. (Rey forgave him by the next time she dragged them out to dinner. Because of course she did.) She was going to be devastated. But it would be better than if she found out from Leia, or worse, Han.

_**Okay. I can try to escape the office around 6 on Saturday.**_ **_I have a lot to tell you._**

They met up at Sol, a hip but casual new Puerto Rican eatery that Rey had been excited to try. Over decadent pastellitos and papaya-banana drinks, Kylo told her about Hux’s promotion and the decision that had ensued.

“But Ben,” Rey said. “You guys can’t split up.”

“Well, we have,” Kylo said crossly. 

Rey shook her head, crunching down on a handful of tostones. “You’re so good for each other. You can’t just . . . Are you really just going to let it go?”

Kylo stared down at his food, remembering the look in Hux’s eyes when he had put his foot down about long distance—and that last, pleading look when he had tried to get Kylo to go with him. The ache in his chest was like a gaping wound, sapping his strength unforgivingly.

“I don’t have any other choice,” Kylo said. “I would have been willing to try, but Hux is too practical.”

“But you’re going to get him back, right?”

Kylo took his time swallowing a mouthful of mofongo to put off having to answer her question. “Back? It’s over, Rey.”

Shaking her head, Rey said, “It’s not as if it ended because you weren’t compatible. I’ve never seen two people so ill-fitted for the world at large but so perfect for each other. You can’t just give up.”

A part of Kylo thought the same, but it hadn’t been enough to make Hux stay. “I don’t think you understand what Hux is like once he makes up his mind,” he said despondently. “As I said, he’s not interested in long distance.”

“Then move with him, Ben. It’s not as if he wouldn’t be able to find you a new position in little time.” Then, gentler, she said, “What’s keeping you? Is your work really worth giving this up?”

“Well, apparently _his_ is, so why should I feel any differently?” Kylo snapped. He clenched his jaw shut, already regretting voicing that particular resentment. He didn’t mean it—not truly. Hux wouldn’t be Hux if not for his ambition, and Kylo loved Hux wholly, in spite of all his sharp edges and self-serving nature. ( _Because_ of them, if he was being honest.)

“I think that’s oversimplifying it a bit, don’t you?” Rey said, eyebrow raised. She had always had the uncanny ability to read him.

“I can’t leave my boss,” Kylo said. “You wouldn’t understand—things have always come so easily to you. But Snoke is the only reason I’ve gotten as far as I have. Without his guidance, who knows where I would be? I owe him.”

“You don’t _owe_ him, Ben. Doesn’t seven years of slaving for him count for something?”

Kylo scowled. She had never understood. His boss and mentor worked Kylo hard, relentlessly, but he was also the only one who had ever given Kylo a chance—a chance to do things his way, whether they were _good_ or not. With Snoke, Kylo had found affirmation that there was no need to be ashamed about his barely passing grades, lack of personal connections, and inability to keep a job. When his mother and father had criticized him for lacking drive and ambition, trying to change him as parents were wont to do, Snoke had seen the best in him—and taken him under his wing, nurturing his talents and celebrating his achievements in a way that his parents had never afforded him. What did it matter that Snoke had been charged with investment fraud, insider trading, and money laundering years ago and was one of the country’s most notorious donors to various unsavory causes? Before Hux, Snoke had been _all_ Kylo had had.

But his family loathed Snoke, and they had long stopped hiding it. Kylo never understood. 

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” he said. Rey’s eyes softened, as he’d known they would.

“All right. Just think about it, okay?”

*

A week later, Kylo lay in his childhood bed, staring glumly at his last text message from Hux. It was something mundane about dinner, dated a couple weeks ago. Hux had suggested radio silence for when he was in New York—he had figured it would be easier for the two of them to let go that way, but Kylo frequently wished he had objected. Some days, he still forgot about the embargo and started to text Hux some miscellaneous rumination or stray thought before having to force himself to set his phone down.

Surely it wouldn’t hurt to just check in? Hux could be in danger or dead—wasn’t it negligent of Kylo to not watch out for him? It wasn’t as if Hux had anyone else to make sure he was okay.

_Hey, Hux. Just wanted to check in. Hope things are going well in New York._

Once he pressed send, Kylo kept expecting the phone to combust or for Hux to climb through the screen and berate him for disobeying his request. But what actually resulted was much worse—absolutely nothing, even after ten minutes of him glaring at the screen, which seemed to mock him with its brightness.

Kylo tried to occupy himself by checking his work email and answering a couple queries. After some time, Leia knocked on his door to ask if he wanted any leftovers she’d brought back from a fundraising event. In no mood to face his parents, Kylo just shouted at her to leave him alone, even as his stomach growled.

A little over an hour later, his phone pinged from the other side of the room.

**_Kylo, why are you texting me? I thought we had an agreement._ **

_I missed you, that’s all._

His heart raced in his ears, his fingers quivering as he gazed at the little bubble next to Hux’s avatar. It hit him that until this moment he hadn’t truly known how much he truly missed Hux. Seeing that cranky text, so clearly composed in Hux’s voice that Kylo could picture perfectly the exasperated look he undoubtedly had on his face—it opened the floodgates. Suddenly, every inch of him ached for Hux. Just to have him in that too-small bed beside him, milk-white skin beneath Kylo’s fingertips, would have been enough.

The wait for Hux’s response wasn’t nearly as long as the first one, but it was a hundred times more agonizing.

**_I miss you as well._ **


	2. Chapter 2

Hux fell asleep that night with his phone resting on his pillow beside his head, Kylo’s heavy breathing coming through the line. It was the kind of sentimental nonsense he had always derided, right up until he and Kylo began dating. After that, he had found himself counting down the hours until they would next be together and committing unexpectedly sweet things Kylo said to memory.

The following morning, he felt at once relieved and frustrated. They had talked into the long hours of the night, and Hux had felt an immediate sense of peace letting Kylo’s voice wash over him. But in the light of the early morning sun, his momentary stumble of weakness felt like a blistering mistake. It would do him no good to foolishly cling on to what remained of their relationship. Hux had known that he wouldn’t be able to tolerate a long-distance relationship, and these feelings confirmed the hazards of such a daft endeavor.

“Kylo, I’m going to get up now. Sleep well.”

When he hung up, he immediately regretted not trying harder to rouse Kylo for a proper goodbye. It would have been nice to hear his voice one last time. Because Hux was absolutely not letting anything like last night happen again.

He went about his morning ablutions and made it to the gym at precisely 7:00 a.m. The pool water felt colder than usual, so he cut his regular workout short. But the change in routine made him irritable for the rest of the day. He postponed his morning meetings and buried himself in spreadsheets and financial models, sending choleric emails demanding that his subordinates step it up.

More often than not, he found his thoughts drifting to Kylo and how warm his voice had sounded over the phone. It filled him with an unacceptable loneliness.

*

For once, Hux didn’t stay at the office late that Friday, telling himself that he finally had the chance for time to himself. When he and Kylo had been together, they had both worked eighty-hour weeks, and any extra time they had had been spent together. That included lunches at the office cafeteria, grocery runs, obligatory family functions. Even when they were home, they seldom existed in separate rooms. The codependence hadn’t felt healthy to Hux then, but he had also been reluctant to correct it. After all, the closeness had pleased him, bizarre as it was.

After twenty minutes of staring at the same page, Hux put his book down with a sigh. He needed to distract himself from somber thoughts by doing something more active. Just then, he spotted his cello across the room, propped up on a stand beside the television. Kylo had always had a strange antipathy toward the instrument—there was some story behind it involving his father and his uncle Chewbacca, but Hux had never pried—and Kylo would scrunch his face up in distaste whenever Hux decided to throw caution to the wind and play the instrument while he was around.

Tuning the cello was sufficiently distracting, but he found his mind wandering once he put bow to string. The notes he wrung out of were pained and despondent, which only made him more depressed.

As a last-ditch effort, he texted Phasma, one of his few friends in New York, and asked if she wanted to grab a drink. He and Phasma had attended the same prep academy as children and continued to be friends through Harvard, but Phasma had done two years on Wall Street and quit to start a personal finance app. They had met up on Hux’s second night in Manhattan, and she had dragged all the dirty details of the breakup out of him.

“You look terrible,” Phasma said as soon as he joined her dubiously at the dive bar she had suggested. The bar counter was sticky, and the walls were covered in old stickers and rickety shelves littered with dusty knickknacks. Loud music that made Hux wrinkle his nose played over ancient speakers as grungy patrons nursed straight hard liquor pours.

“Thanks,” Hux said flatly, doing his best not to touch anything besides his subpar glass of Sazerac. By way of explanation, he said: “Kylo called me a few days ago.”

Phasma rolled her eyes as they snagged a tiny table in a crowded corner of the bar. “I told you he wasn’t going to let go so easily.”

Hux winced. It was true that she had pointed that out last time. “I mean, it was just a phone call. No big deal.”

“How long did you guys talk?”

He paused, tempted to lie. Phasma would see right through it, though. Knowing him from childhood, she of all people recognized how different Kylo had been from any of his previous brief and shallow dalliances. “All night,” he muttered, ears burning.

“All night?!” she exclaimed. “You’re not even in the same time zone. Jesus, Hux. Remind me why you dumped him again?”

“I didn’t dump him,” Hux said defensively. “It was a mutual decision,” he added, even though he knew it wasn’t precisely true.

Phasma knew, too. “Stop lying to me,” she said, wagging a finger at his pinched face across the table. “Better yet, stop lying to yourself. You might find out a few things—namely that you’re an idiot for abandoning the only man who will ever love you unconditionally.”

“Shut up,” Hux grumbled, fidgeting with the steel band of his Rolex and avoiding her shrewd eyes. “I didn’t invite you out to shit on me.”

“That’s a shame, because you should’ve known that it’s what you’d get,” Phasma retorted with a devious grin. “So what did you and dear Kylo talk about all night?”

*

Hux squinted at the white ball, visualizing the path it would take across the green felt of the billiard table. His army of striped balls had a narrow lead, but Phasma’s next turn would likely allow her troops to catch up.

“You should ask Kylo to visit,” Phasma said. “Show him what he’s missing.”

Hux sputtered and lost his focus entirely. Swearing, he reached for the cue chalk. “No, I’m not going to ask him to visit. That’s ridiculous.”

“I think it’s more ridiculous that you spent all night talking on the phone like teenage lovebirds—and somehow still think there’s no way this will work.”

“Unlike some people, I don’t need to be in a relationship,” Hux said. “And being in a long-distance one would herald a boatload of extra stress that I don’t need. Statistically, they rarely work out anyway.” He lined up his cue again and took the shot.

Phasma smirked as the balls just ricocheted around the board. As she lined up her shot, she said, “Statistically, someone with as terrible an attitude about the world as you—or Kylo, if we’re being real—should never be allowed to be in a relationship in the first place. So fuck that and just claim your soulmate already.”

“He’s not my soulmate,” Hux groaned at the saccharine term. “And will you just let it go?”

“Only if you promise to think about it,” Phasma said, then let out an enthusiastic whoop as her risky shot was successful, depositing three balls neatly into the pockets.

“Whatever,” Hux grumbled, rolling his eyes as she took another shot. Leaning down, he glared ferociously at the cue ball to will it into submission. He still had a chance to win.

*

But, later that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. What would it have been like if Kylo had agreed to move with him to New York? What would it have been like to wake up in his new penthouse apartment to the sight of sunlight streaking across pale, freckled skin? What would it have been like to sit out on the balcony on weekend mornings in the late spring, sipping breakfast tea and sharing in a comfortable silence? What would it have been like to watch the snow fall from the hazy sky together?

Hux was suddenly filled with a grand desire to make it happen. Swimming in the sheets of his king-size bed, he looked at the cold, empty space beside him and felt a profound sense of regret.

*

Tentatively, they began speaking regularly again, snarky texts and mundane photos during the day and complaints about daily tribulations at night. Left unspoken were the aching distance and the aftertaste of bitterness that set in when they laughed together, a weak approximation of times past. Hux couldn’t dismiss the feeling of illicitness, of some sort of betrayal of himself, and it sullied every conversation between them.

Still, he looked forward to talking to Kylo, especially when he was traveling and his work felt all-consuming—which was more frequently than ever at his new role. Even if it was just a few mundane texts exchanged as he waited in an airport lounge or a photo of an amusing ad spotted on his way to meet a client, Hux always found comfort in Kylo’s responses.

And then one morning, Hux woke up to an unusually candid text that Kylo had sent late into his night on the West Coast:

 _I wish you were here_.

Telling himself that Kylo was asleep, Hux ignored the text, carrying his remorse like boulders within the cavern of his chest.

*

As usual, Phasma was right. Weeks later, when Hux only half seriously suggested that Kylo visit, Kylo jumped at the opportunity.

Hux rearranged his schedule so he could take the weekend off. Dressed in the soft olive-green sweater that Kylo used to be obsessed with, he met him at the subway stop by his apartment. He had yet to decide whether he was going to go for a handshake or a hug, but Kylo folded him into his strong arms without a second thought. Hux hadn’t realized how much he had missed those embraces until he was drowning in the familiar musky scent and nearly radioactive warmth.

“It’s good to see you,” Hux said, but it was a severe understatement. Kylo beamed at him, his pale skin made rosy by the chilly autumn breeze.

“You, too,” he said, eyes lowering shyly. “You grew out your hair. It looks good.”

The car dropped them off at Hux’s favorite pizza joint, and Hux listened intently as Kylo complained about flight delays. There was something about the way he grumbled that was just undeniably endearing. The thought made Hux feel foolish, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Kylo. All the way back to his apartment, his gaze lingered on him, committing the familiar lines to memory—all over again.

“Oh, this is nice,” Kylo said, when they got back to Hux’s apartment. Hux wasn’t sure if he meant it or if he was just trying to fill up conversation space; to his eyes, the apartment was merely serviceable. Situated on the Upper East Side, it overlooked Central Park and had luxuriously high ceilings, but it was cold, all oak floors and inoffensive eggshell walls. He had paid a service to furnish it before he had arrived, having no patience for such frivolity.

Sparse and lacking any sentimental decorations, it was frigid compared to the sunny bungalow they had shared in California. Their home been painstakingly adorned with beautiful artwork that the two of them had argued furiously over, and the rooms had been filled with evidence of a shared life—half-finished glasses of water, charger cables snaking around furniture, sweaters draped on chairs. It was a place where they had shared countless laughs and moments of both tenderness and passion—and later, shed tears together. This new apartment was only a place for Hux to rest his head in between business trips.

But he found comfort in the sterility. He had moved here to work, and he didn’t much care about the space in which he spent his few hours off.

“It functions,” Hux said, leaning down to remove his shoes. “You can set your suitcase there. The sofa converts into a fairly comfortable bed.”

“Oh,” Kylo said haltingly. “I thought—”

Hux stared out the wall of single-pane windows, unable to face the disappointment that creased Kylo’s face. Dusk was making way for night outside, the glow of headlights bright even this high up in the city. “I don’t think it’s good idea for us to sleep in close quarters.”

Brow furrowed, Kylo slammed his suitcase on the ground and tore open the zippers with much more force than necessary. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Have it your way, Hux. As you always do.”

Hux rolled his eyes. The petulance he had not missed. For all that Kylo complained about his family, it was obvious they had spoiled him relentlessly as a child. He busied himself with the kettle, ignoring Kylo’s frustrated and unnecessarily loud rummaging. “Tea?”

“Sure,” Kylo said. “Whatever.”

Hux made Kylo’s oolong just the way he liked it and placed it on a marble coaster on the coffee table. Eyes glued to the stubborn man sitting cross-legged on the floor, he took a seat on the contentious couch. 

“If it matters, I brought you something,” Kylo said, hands clasped around something small.

“Oh?” Hux said, intrigued. It would probably be wiser not to accept whatever Kylo wanted to gift him, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. “It matters.”

In the little velvet box were a pair of elegant silver cufflinks, forming a monogram of his initials. They were stylish but not overly ornate. Hux could picture Kylo in the garage of his uncle’s house, laboring over the tiny details, eyes and lips pinched as he concentrated. He had always been such a talented welder.

“They’re beautiful,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

Kylo looked away. “It was nothing,” he said. In the interest of staving off any potential drama, Hux pretended to believe him.

“Would you like the grand tour?” he asked, as a means of offering amends.

They padded around the apartment in their identical black socks, Kylo mostly silent except for the sharp breath he drew when he saw the old photo of them tucked into the mirror of Hux’s dresser. Hux cursed mentally—he had intended to hide the picture before Kylo’s arrival. Foolish sentimentality would be his doom, as his father had always predicted.

Cheeks running hot, Hux put his hand on Kylo’s back and steered him out of the room.

“The balcony has a view of Central Park,” he said to distract Kylo. They stood together on the small space, staring out at the sea of green amid the manic liveliness of the city. Hux tried valiantly to ignore the feeling of Kylo’s elbow brushing his. Even through their thick sweaters, the spot where they touched felt like fire.

Hux glanced at Kylo to ascertain if he was similarly affected. Their eyes met, Kylo’s gaze heavy.

“Do you like it here?” he asked.

“It’s expensive, but I like having a doorman and maintenance on-call,” Hux said.

“No, I mean, here. New York.”

“New York is fine,” Hux said. “It’s colder, but I always hated the California heat.”

“You mean you hated the way you burned to a crisp in the heat,” Kylo corrected. Hux glared at him.

“Says the person who gets sunburns on cloudy days.”

Kylo chuckled, a sound that gave rise to a flutter in Hux’s stomach. He had always been so pleased when he managed to make the often too-somber Kylo laugh.

“I can’t deny it,” Kylo said. The silence swelled with the fondness between them.

Quietly, Kylo said, “Do you like it better here than California?” His eyes skittered away from where they had been fixed on Hux.

“Unfair question,” Hux said, low. “You’re in California.”

Kylo froze, and Hux wondered if he had overstepped an invisible boundary. But Kylo simply grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Hux suddenly felt twenty degrees warmer.

“I thought this would be easier for you,” he said. “I had this vision of you just forgetting about me once you moved away.”

Hux grimaced. “I thought it would be easier for me, too. It looks like you left your mark on me.”

“Is it terrible that I’m glad?”

“You always were a selfish prick,” Hux mused. Kylo laughed, shoving him lightly with his shoulder.

“And you always were an arrogant asshole.”

Smirking, Hux rubbed the knuckles of Kylo’s hand gently. The calluses he had long memorized were still there, oddly comforting amid everything else that had changed in his life.

“This is unwise, Kylo.”

Kylo squeezed his hand. “Maybe,” he said. But he didn’t let go.

*

It was easier than he had expected to fall back into their old ways. The next day, Hux took Kylo to brunch, and then they spent the rest of the day wandering the grand halls of the Met. It made Hux uneasy, the way Kylo felt at once more familiar than anything he’d ever encountered and faraway, like they were having a passionate conversation while the ocean yawed between them. 

“Remember that time we drove to Napa for your birthday?”

Kylo looked both impossibly handsome and charmingly youthful in the candlelight as he slurped down his tagliatelle. Hux’s eyes followed Kylo’s tongue as it slipped out to lick the sauce that had landed on his bottom lip. It was infuriating how distracting the most ordinary things could be when it was Kylo doing them. Hux seldom found even professional models attractive, but Kylo’s dark eyes did something remarkable to him. 

Hux had forgotten the draw of those eyes. He swallowed thickly.

“You mean when you dragged me to the northern wilds on a romantic whim without prior notice?”

Kylo snickered. “The look on your face when I told you where we were headed.”

Hux had been furious. He hated spontaneity and not being in the know. But hours into the trip, halfway up the 101 highway, he had had to admit that it felt good to get away. The ocean glistened in the August sun, and the forest knolls were just as majestic. While road trips couldn’t compare to the luxury of flying first class or in private jets, he had enjoyed sharing the journey with Kylo, who often spoke of being dragged to San Francisco as a child.

“I thought you hated road trips,” he had said.

“I didn’t hate the road trips,” Kylo had corrected. “I hated being trapped with my family.”

Hux’s lip quirked as the memories came flooding back: sharing glass after glass of premium wines, hiking among the majestic redwoods, trading wet kisses in the hot tub.

“I had a good time in the end,” he admitted.

Reminiscing was upsettingly easy. Since he had moved to New York, Hux had tried to keep the memories at bay. Being in a new place made it easier to do—though it had merely been a couple months, it felt as if his life in California had taken place eons ago. Kylo lighting up as he recounted the time they went skiing in Aspen and tried their hand at surfing in Santa Barbara was irresistibly endearing. It rocked Hux, realizing how so many of the best times of in his life had been spent with Kylo.

The good mood lasted all the way back home. Hux opened a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and proposed they put on a movie. As the film flickered and the wine softened them both, it was inevitable that the yaw between them would shrink. By the second act of the movie, Hux had an arm around Kylo, and Kylo was playing with the fabric of Hux’s slacks.

When their lips met, it was more natural than anything. Illuminated solely by the light of the state-of-the-art television screen and the twinkle of neighboring apartments, they pressed closer than they had been in months. Hux’s other arm lifted to cup the back of Kylo’s neck, and Kylo gripped the front of Hux’s shirt like a lifeline. Hux felt himself drowning in the intoxicating familiarity of it—the warm smell of Kylo’s shampoo, the surprising plushness of his mouth, the possessive way he loomed over Hux.

It was easier than it should have been for Kylo to push Hux down onto the cushions, impatiently unbuttoning his shirt and pressing his mouth to Hux’s neck. Hux cursed his lack of restraint even as he leaned into the comfort of Kylo’s firm grasp and tried to catch his breath. He could feel his pounding heart in his ears as he carded his hands through Kylo’s long hair. Kylo’s huge hands were everywhere, consuming him and cradling him all at once. Hux was delirious with the thrill of it, biting his lip to silence any embarrassing sounds.

“Come on,” he whispered, his remaining self-control crumbling.

Kylo’s warm hand in his, Hux led him to the bedroom. Kylo was like a violent storm; devastating and inevitable. Hux had never desired anyone more.

*

Afterward, when they caught their breath, Hux settled into the crook of Kylo’s neck and tamped down the swell of emotion in his throat. Kylo was quiet, too.

“Won’t you stay?” Hux said at last. Though he tried not to sound too plaintive, the pinch in his features likely gave him away. He pressed swollen lips to Kylo’s soft skin.

“I wish I could,” Kylo replied, running his hand down Hux’s freckled back. He kept his mournful gaze above Hux’s line of sight, the coward.

Hux swallowed his disappointment. He shouldn’t have expected anything else, and yet blistering optimism had soared through him as they came down from high. As that white-hot hope receded, fury at the repeated rejection filled the void.

“Sure,” Hux said bitterly. “It’s definitely not within your power or anything.”

“My work, Hux . . .”

“I’ve already told you I could get you a position here. I’m not interested in more of your excuses.”

Sighing, Kylo withdrew his hand. “Snoke needs me,” he said.

Hux wiggled out of the embrace and leaned back on the pillows instead. “No,” he said, rubbing his temples in frustration. He was a fool; nothing had changed after all. “I think you’re the one who needs Snoke. You don’t need to rely on him, you know. You’ve already come so far since you started working with him.”

Scowling, Kylo rolled to face away from Hux. “You don’t know anything about it,” he said sullenly.

“What I know is that you put him miles above our relationship,” Hux said. “You want to get back together, but only if it means you don’t have to give anything up.” Even as he had no interest in arguing about this again, he couldn’t help his pettiness. There wasn’t much in his life that he didn’t have control over, but Kylo unfortunately more than made up for that.

“You’re the one who abandoned us for this job.”

Hux sat up. “I wanted you to come with me, Kylo. I planned for it. It’s on you that we had to break up. And it’s on you that we started talking again.”

“Right, as usual, everything is my fault,” Kylo scoffed. “Because you obviously want to move on—texting me and inviting me to visit and getting me into your bed.”

Hux could feel himself turning red, a petulant ball of rage forming in the pit of his stomach. He hated the way Kylo made him lose control of his emotions, brought out the worst—the weakest—in him.

“I’ve been _trying_ , you asshole!” he snapped. “You’re the one who won’t let me go.”

“Because breaking up was a stupid idea. You know it; you just won’t admit it. But you’re not going to find better than me. Nobody’s going to love you like I do. You’re going to regret losing me for the rest of your life.”

“Fuck you, Kylo,” Hux said steely. “Of course I regret losing you. But unlike some people, I take responsibility for decisions I make for myself. Even when they’re hard.”

Bending down, Hux picked up his clothes and dressed himself. As he fixed his hair in the mirror, he spotted the incriminating photograph of them tucked there. Annoyed, he tore it from its spot and slammed it face down on his dresser. He would sleep on the damn sofa himself.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Kylo awoke, Hux was already fully dressed and sitting on the balcony with tea and the _Wall Street Journal_ open on his tablet.

“Hey,” Kylo grunted, scrubbing his messy hair. He felt greasy and lumbering and completely out of place in this cold apartment, in this city so different from where he had grown up.

Before he even asked, Hux said shortly, “Coffee’s in the kitchen.”

Kylo shuffled to get it and returned with a plain white mug and the entire carafe. A cup and a half in, he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Hux lifted his head, and his eyebrows were up. “You are? Incredible. Stop the presses.”

“Don’t be a dick, Hux,” Kylo said.

“Uh-huh,” Hux said, turning off the screen of his tablet and directing his full attention to Kylo. His lips were twisted in a skeptical grimace, which Kylo tried not to let get to him. Allowing his temper to flare would risk making Hux retreat into his shell faster. “And what, pray tell, are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry for giving you shit about this job,” Kylo said tentatively. Hux’s eyes were hard and cold, but underneath there was something more tender, something that had recoiled last night, hurt. Kylo continued quietly, “I know it’s very important to you.” He ducked behind his mop of hair, face downturned. “And I know you didn’t want to lose me when you took it.”

Hux nodded, looking away now, too. His face was a practiced blank mask, the only tell his pressed lips. Kylo waited, hands cupped around the now lukewarm coffee mug. Though patience was not one of his strong suits, he knew Hux was even worse at expressing his emotions and insecurities than Kylo was.

“Then I’m sorry, too,” Hux said at last, looking like it pained him to say aloud. “I want you here. I can’t deny that. Last night, I . . . What I feel for you hasn’t changed. But I need to follow my path, too.”

Nodding, Kylo said reluctantly, “I understand.”

When Hux had asked him to visit, he had read it as a sign that Hux was ready to fold and move back to California. Though he was clearly glowing at having attained a career milestone, he seemed apathetic about New York. Seeing the photograph on his mirror, too, had bolstered Kylo, convincing him that he had a chance at persuading Hux to move back to the West Coast. He had convinced himself that it meant everything was going to go back to the way it had been.

But Hux seemed to want to persuade Kylo to stay with him in New York, and the thought of a change that huge filled Kylo with uncertainty. In his current department, he was the big cheese, Snoke’s right hand. Out here, all the connections he had made, all the hours he had put in, would mean nothing. He would be a nepotism hire, maybe even working directly under Hux. He would have to play nice, intimidate or seduce new coworkers and supervisors on to his side, put in even more hours than ever to prove that he was talented and hardworking. He didn’t want to start all over again. With Snoke, he knew where he stood. With Snoke, things were easy.

Hux was gazing him now, expression tender and unguarded. It was a look of wistful longing, so foreign on Hux’s sharp face, and the transparent yearning made Kylo swell with regret.

“I still have another day here,” he said. “If this is going to be it, let’s just spend it together and not talk about any of this anymore.”

Hux nodded, hiding behind his teacup. “Deal,” he said.

Kylo chugged the rest of his coffee and steadied himself. He could do this. They could do this.

*

Upon his return to California, Kylo did his best to move on. He tried, with a furious desperation, to be single. The requisite apps downloaded, he created inane autobiographical profiles and mindlessly scrolled through flattering pictures of people attractive and not, interesting and not. The conversations he managed to strike up were awkward and bumbling. The people he matched with were dull or annoying.

None of them were Hux. In a fit of frustration one night, he wiped his accounts and deleted every insipid dating app from his phone.

When Kylo had left New York, he and Hux had agreed (once again) not to text or call each other anymore. It had seemed logical then, just as it had the first time Hux made him promise not to contact him. But lying in his cold childhood bed, longing for the comfort that he had only ever found in Hux, the vow seemed preposterous. 

For once, his parents knew better than to bring it up with him. After Kylo got back to LA, he spent any time that he wasn’t at work or sulking in his room with his father in the garage—the only place the two of them had ever coexisted peacefully. Han even only made one comment about Hux on Kylo’s first day back before he got the idea and avoided the topic.

Every time Kylo spoke to his mother, he could see questions brimming in her eyes, but he stubbornly refused to let her fulfill her curiosity. Hux was his business. And not even really that anymore.

At work, he tucked away the beloved photo on his desk. He brought books to read at lunch and tried not to throw tantrums whenever one of his analysts was late for a client meeting or asked him to re-explain something.

Life went on, and Kylo dragged himself through it. After all, this was what he had chosen.

*

At the end of the quarter, Snoke gave him a large raise and commendation for his hard work. After the performance review, Kylo went back to his office and sat at his desk.

The thrill was gone.

When had first started working, praise from Snoke had lit him up; it had finally made him believe that he was good at something—good _for_ something. Each subsequent promotion and salary increase had felt like a provocative drug, raising him up and bringing him back for more. He had thrown himself into the work, desperate for the high of that hard-earned praise.

But now he just felt empty. There was no one with whom to share his accomplishments, no one who really understood what it all meant to Kylo. Hux had understood—or at least, Kylo had believed that he had. But when it came down to it, Hux’s empathy came from his own addiction to work. Work—they had sacrificed something magnificent for it, and yet what had it earned them? A half-hour of praise during a performance review a few times a year. A corpulent bank account filled with money he didn’t know what to do with.

Kylo was conscious of his thoughts beginning to spiral: If work didn’t bring him joy, then he had nothing. And if he had nothing, then what was the point of working this hard, of throwing himself wholly into this job?

His mother had spent her entire life working, and she seemed to find it rewarding. But when he brought it up with her, she didn’t say what he expected.

“It’s about finding a balance,” she said. “It’s not easy. I can’t help but work, but it hasn’t always been good for me. Your father leans in the opposite direction, which is why he gets so restless.”

“Neither Hux nor I have ever been good at balance,” he admitted. He tried to ignore the unveiled sympathy in her eyes.

After his epiphany, the days grew drearier. The heartrending pain of separation bled into a muted hollowness, a blow of loss that struck unexpectedly—during a morning shower, at a client meeting, as he prepared for bed. It was a bleak emptiness that stole his breath, that made him choke down the bitter pill of loneliness, of what was coming after the best part of his life.

Even his colleagues could tell something had changed. Not just the searing humiliation of an office breakup but also the devastation of loss, the slinking away of willpower. They left a wide berth for him in the hallways and stopped ribbing him good-naturedly. Kylo spent his spare time at the gym, in the garage. He volunteered for more on-site meetings that took him around the world, trips during which he was shuttled from meeting to meeting and kept in glamorous hotels that felt sterile without someone to share the luxuries with.

The beds were stark and lonely, and Kylo ran cold when he slept.

*

Throughout it all, he thought of Hux.

He thought of Hux in his barren apartment, the heater turned all the way up to compensate for the bitter winter chill; he thought of Hux in his new corner office, imperiously ordering an army of analysts to do his bidding. He thought of Hux when he was stuck in traffic on the 405; he thought of Hux when he was lifting weights and squinting critically at his reflection in the dusty mirror.

He thought of Hux constantly, and he wondered if Hux ever thought of him.

*

At the holidays, Han and Leia had family and friends over, as was tradition. Kylo invited Rey and her roommates Finn and Poe, and the four of them got rip-roaring drunk after dinner. They didn’t bring up Hux, who they had met at previous gatherings, and Kylo did his best to do the same, instead focusing on winning the board games they played. He had a good time, and for the first time in a long while he chanced the thought that he might be all right.

Later, Rey found him smoking on the porch, gaze aimed high among the stars. The Southern Californian night was comfortable despite it being December, and the sweaters they both wore were more out of a desire to commemorate the holiday than any real need. Rey had let her hair down for the occasion and donned a shade of lipstick that was probably too dark for her complexion. She looked happy. Healthy. As he had from a young age, Kylo envied the easy way she found joy in mundane things like a holiday party.

“How are you doing?” she said. He knew what she was really asking. Rey had always been preternaturally good at reading him. He passed her the pen and leaned against the railing, debating with himself whether he should be honest.

“Not great,” he said finally, fidgeting with his cuff. “I think I might be losing it, honestly.”

She exhaled and gave him a shrewd look, lip curling in sympathy at whatever she saw there. “Have you and Hux been talking?”

“No,” he said, crossing his arms. “I haven’t heard from him since New York. I think he’s moved on.”

A flurry of expressions flitted quickly across her face: skepticism, sadness, pity. Her features settled somewhere between helplessness and frustration. “And what about you?”

He avoided her gaze and muttered, “I tried.”

Sighing, Rey said, “I really thought your visit might change things.”

“Me, too,” Kylo said quietly. “He’s just . . . stubborn.”

Rey raised her eyebrows, leaning against the post closest to them. “He’s not the only one.”

Bristling, Kylo glared at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“C’mon, Ben,” Rey said, rolling her eyes. “If you transferred to New York, do you think you two could make it work?”

Kylo shrugged and looked away, as if the question hadn’t constantly been on his mind since he last saw Hux.

“I know you’re afraid—”

“I’m not _afraid_ ,” Kylo sneered.

Rey crossed her arms, too, and took a deep breath. “Okay, whatever,” she said. “If I didn’t know you so well, I might advise you to just move on. Maybe I’d tell you that there are other fish in the sea. But you’re not happy here, and you clearly don’t want to move on. And I know you and Hux had something special. So why not give it a shot?”

The old answer felt stale on his tongue, but he opened his mouth to declare it anyway.

“And don’t say Snoke,” she interrupted. “You’ve outgrown him in your career, and you know it. He helped you once, but now he’s just holding you back.”

Kylo clenched his jaw and didn’t say anything for a long time, petulant. The air hung thick with his reluctance. Rey didn’t push, simply leaning against the porch railing with a faraway gaze.

When he finally spoke, he had to clench his fists to stop them from trembling. “What if I take the plunge, and it doesn’t work out?”

“Then you’ll have done your best. And at least you’ll _know_ , instead of being paralyzed by what-ifs,” Rey said, laying a small, warm hand on his shoulder. “And we’ll be here to catch you.”

A little warmth bloomed in Kylo’s chest. The kindness that came so easily to her scalded him, but he was always grateful for it. _Maybe_.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, and squeezed her hand in what he hoped she would recognize as gratitude.

*

The new year arrived, and for six weeks, nothing changed.

The day started out rough from the start, as many of them had been for months. Kylo had trouble falling asleep the previous night and eventually gave up when the birds outside started chirping incessantly and the sun began to peek through his curtains. He nicked his chin shaving and cursed as he realized he had forgotten to order a travel-size version of one of his hair products. Then the driver of the car he ordered talked his ear off the entire way to the airport, even though it was only seven in the morning and they were stuck in rush-hour traffic. And only after he got dropped off did he realize he had forgotten to pack his ties.

After Kylo got through security, he spent ten minutes arguing with the lounge attendant because he had forgotten his lounge access card, too. What was the point of having earned boundless credit card benefits if you needed to cary _another_ card to prove that you had access to said benefits?

“Morons,” Kylo grumbled, stomping through the frosted doors. The sparsely decorated lounge was only a quarter full, with businesspeople young and old typing away on slim laptops and two solemn parents accompanied by lavishly dressed children. The scent of cleaning supplies lingered a little too strongly in the air, but it was still a respite from the nonstop airport chaos.

Kylo grabbed a bottle of seltzer from the refrigerators along the wall and tucked it under his arm before filling a small plate with bread, cheese, and olives. He headed for the corner where he usually liked to sit when he was waiting in this lounge. Because it was a distance from the door, there were only two occupants in the black armchairs in the area, a stern-looking middle-aged woman working on a presentation and an impeccably dressed younger man staring at his phone, vibrant red hair falling over his eyes—

Kylo stopped short. Part of him wanted to run out the door and drive back to his parents’ house and hide under the covers. The other part took a tentative set of steps forward, his heart suddenly in his throat.

“Hux,” he said hoarsely.

Hux looked up, clearly startled to be addressed. Frozen, he blinked up at Kylo, who was suddenly overly conscious of his terrible shave and his still-damp hair and the probably-too-desperate yearning in his eyes. Briefly, Hux looked like a trapped animal. Kylo tried to smile, but it came out looking more like a grimace.

“Ben!” Hux said too loudly, standing up awkwardly. It was bizarre to hear him use that formal name, when he had called him _Kylo_ for so long. 

Hux made an aborted motion like he was going to hug Kylo but then thought better of it. Instead, he stuck his hand out for Kylo to shake, as if they were merely colleagues. Kylo’s hand was clammy, and he held on for much longer than he would have in any actual professional situation.

“Hey,” Kylo said uselessly. “Do you mind if I—” He gestured vaguely at the seat on Hux’s right.

“Oh, yeah, please sit down,” Hux said, but Kylo could tell he was uncomfortable. The thought that they had gone from being the most important person in each other’s lives to nothing more than awkward acquaintances hurt more than he expected. Still, he was hardly going to give up the chance to be around Hux when he had spent the past few months wishing for just that.

“It’s good to see you,” Kylo tried, after they sat down and a stilted silence lingered. “You look . . . well.”

It wasn’t strictly true, though Kylo always thought Hux looked beautiful. Hux’s complexion had never been able to hide his stress, and he looked rather haggard despite the expensive suit tailored perfectly to his slim body.

Hux shrugged and ran a hand through his bright hair, a nervous tic Kylo recognized immediately. Maybe it was a good sign, that Hux still cared about what he thought. “I doubt it,” he said. “Where are you heading?”

“London,” Kylo said, popping a wedge of cheese into his mouth. “You?”

“Hong Kong. I only just got back from Stockholm on Saturday.”

That was only three days ago. Kylo winced in sympathy and offered the items on his plate to Hux. “That’s rough. So you’ve been traveling a lot this quarter then?”

“Pretty much nonstop since the holidays,” Hux said grimly, taking an olive for himself. Kylo did his best not to stare at his perfect mouth. “The other directors have been around longer, and they all have families, so it’s easier to send me.”

“Oh,” Kylo said, unsure if it was a jab at him or not. “At least it means they trust you.”

“I suppose,” Hux said.

“Not seeing anyone new then?” Kylo said, rather less smoothly than he had hoped.

Hux rolled his eyes. “There it is,” he said. The exasperated tone was familiar and, perversely, the possibility of banter filled Kylo with a warm feeling.

“Excuse me for wanting companionship for you,” Kylo snarked, playing his part.

“You are so full of it,” Hux said. “And no, there’s no cause for your misguided jealousy.”

“Oh,” Kylo said. “Good.” He flinched and deflated, casting an anxious look at Hux. “I mean, not _good_ , but . . .”

Hux chuckled and suddenly looked ten years younger. “You’re still a shitty liar, Kylo.” Kylo’s stomach stumbled a bit at the return of the nickname. Hux uncrossed his legs, shifting in his seat. Looking away, he said more gently, “How are things? How’s work?”

“You want me to be honest?” Kylo said. “Fine: It’s not great.”

A frustrated look surfaced on Hux’s face before he buried it beneath his typical apathetic expression. “Work? Or things generally?”

“Work. But things generally follow, don’t they?”

“Things not going as planned with Snoke?” Hux didn’t bother to keep the pettiness out of his voice, but Kylo couldn’t bring himself to be upset about it.

He shook his head. “It’s nothing to do with him—he got me another raise at the end of Q4. I’m just struggling to care.”

A bewildered frown creased Hux’s brow. “You gave up everything for that job. What do you mean you don’t care?”

“You don’t need to remind me, Hux,” Kylo said bitterly, staring at his lap.

Hux didn’t respond, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his pants. Kylo sighed. “Do you ever just wonder what’s the point of it all—the long hours, the grueling competition, the annoying coworkers?”

“I kind of thought the point was to amass a bunch of money and power,” Hux said. Kylo knew he was only being half-sarcastic, and it annoyed him further.

“But then what? I live at my parents’ house, I have essentially one friend, I’m not interested in dating. I’m at the office until late every day, unless I’m in a strange hotel halfway around the world. What is it all _for_?”

“Well,” Hux said carefully. “I thought you _liked_ working for Snoke.”

“I did,” Kylo said. “But after I got back from New York, it’s just felt more and more pointless.” He took a deep breath. “I’m considering quitting.”

Hux’s jaw dropped, and Kylo congratulated himself on actually catching Hux off-guard for once. “You’re _what_?”

Kylo shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. It felt frighteningly more real once he said it aloud. “I have enough saved up to take a break. Maybe I just need some time to think about what I really want.”

At his words, Hux seized his hand, and Kylo’s eyes widened, startled. “Come to New York,” Hux blurted out, eyes lit up. “If you want, I mean,” he hedged. “I can take some time off again, and we can drive up the coast. A road trip, like the old days. Or we can just hang out at my place and watch movies, like we used to. You can see if you’d be interested in moving there.”

“Hux . . .” A few months ago, Kylo would have jumped at the opportunity, but he felt so lost now. Part of the point of quitting was to figure things out for himself, and he had never been able to think clearly when Hux was concerned. His entire crisis had been kindled by his not wanting to move.

“You can stay as long as you like,” Hux implored.

“Begging doesn’t suit you,” Kylo scoffed, avoiding Hux’s beseeching gaze. “But I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Hux said, not even protesting. His lips were quirked slightly upward, and Kylo found his breath catching, embarrassingly happy to still have that power over him. His gaze lingered as Hux checked the time on his expensive watch and cursed. “They’ll be boarding now,” he muttered, gathering his things. He shot a forlorn look at Kylo.

“Let me know,” he said. “About New York. I mean it.”

“I will,” Kylo said.

Looking conflicted, Hux slung his bag across his chest and took several deep breaths. After a few seconds of heavy silence, he leaned in close to brush his lips against Kylo’s cheek. “I hope to see you soon,” he murmured, breath hot against Kylo’s skin. Kylo swallowed hard.

Once Hux disappeared through the sliding glass doors of the lounge, Kylo’s hand rose to gently caress the spot Hux had kissed. He gingerly carried his hope, a precarious, gossamer thing in his chest, all the way to London.

*

When Kylo returned to California, he put in his notice.

Afterward, he felt a thousand times better, even though Snoke hardly seemed broken up about what had been one of the most difficult decisions of his life.

The next day, Kylo bought a nonstop, one-way ticket to New York. He told himself it was just a visit, and it would do him no good to put all his delicate hopes on this. Last time, his naivete had wrecked him. As he packed his bags, his doubts still swam strong, but it had been so good to see Hux. So good to know that he was doing okay, that his work still felt rewarding to him. That he still missed Kylo, despite everything.

Before he left, Kylo got dinner with a delighted Rey, who hugged him so tightly that he had to remind her that he was just popping over to Manhattan for a vacation. She just smiled at him knowingly in response and made him promise to call her, no matter what happened. When he said goodbye to his parents, they both told him that they were proud of him and loved him very much, to which Kylo simply rolled his eyes in the moment (but later, in private, smiled to himself about).

On the plane ride, he spent most of the time sleeping, except for an hour and a half spent scrolling through consultant job listings. Snoke had given him a blanket offer to reach out to his Wall Street network, but Kylo had been quietly thinking that it might be time to leave banking behind.

He made his way to Hux’s place, stopping along the way to acquire a large bouquet of lilies, Hux’s favorite. His nerves began to seize when he was within a few blocks of the apartment, and he crossed the street to sit on a bench in Central Park to calm himself.

It was certainly too late for regret. Hux himself had invited Kylo. He wouldn’t turn him away—he wanted him to stay.

What if Hux wasn’t even home though? Surprising him had been a terrible idea.

And even if Hux didn’t kick him out immediately, what if he got tired of him after he moved in and recombined their lives?

Kylo shook himself, clenching and unclenching his fists. He would get up and do what he came here to do, consequences be damned.

*

When Hux opened the door, his eyes were wide. A shocked, desperate hope like dawnbreak swept through his features before he ironed his expression into a neutral one.

“Kylo,” he breathed.

Heart pounding, Kylo gave a stupid wave. His mouth twisted wryly. “Uh, hey,” he said. “So I quit my job, and I was hoping to cash in on your offer. I hope this isn’t a bad time . . . ?”

“No, not at all,” Hux said, still stupefied. “This is great. Perfect.”

“Well, good. Um.” Kylo thrusted the bouquet into Hux’s hands. “I got you these.”

Hux’s gaze flickered down to the flowers, then back to Kylo, and back again. He held the bouquet tight to his chest, and Kylo wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of the hallway light or if Hux’s eyes were truly watery. “They’re beautiful,” Hux said softly. “Thank you.”

Kylo nodded and shrugged awkwardly. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Hux said. “You’re really here.” As he spoke, he broke out into a grin brighter than all the glimmering lights of Manhattan. 

Kylo felt deliriously dizzy, flushing at being at the receiving end of that rare high wattage. He would never tire of it. He would never grow weary of this incandescent feeling in his chest at the sight of Hux welcoming him home, truly happy to see him.

Eyes wet, Kylo nodded, his answering smile quiet and hopeful. “I’m not making any promises,” he said, afraid to ruin this precious, fragile thing between them.

“I know,” Hux said gently, his expression remaining bright and open. He held the door wide open and ushered Kylo in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, and for your kind words. You can find me on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/morethansky) and [Tumblr](http://morethansky.tumblr.com) as morethansky!


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